Ritam Sen  The Body by the Ghat The tram squealed as it curved past the Kalighat temple gates, the clattering wheels echoing through the alleyways still soaked from last night’s drizzle. The city was stirring — morning prayers floated out from open windows, chai stalls hissed to life, and vendors set up shop like they had every day for years. Kolkata, in its timeless rhythm, was waking up. Inspector Arjun Dutta was halfway through his first cup of tea when the call came. The voice on the other end, a young constable posted at the Kalighat beat, was unusually tense.…